


Light-Bearer

by Mangacat



Series: Morningstar-Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:43:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangacat/pseuds/Mangacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell… and the first demon shall be the last seal. Lucifer himself however, has something to say about how the story begun… and where it goes to finish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Set AU right after 4x22 Lucifer Rising. I originally started this five days before the season premiere of S5 because it was spooking around in my head since I watched the last seconds of Lucifer Rising. It HAD to be finished beforehand or I wouldn't have managed so I actually went and wrote the fastest 12k I ever have in my life. Still proud of that accomplishment.

If you'd rather LISTEN than read GO HERE:  [ Light-Bearer pod-fic ](http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/category/mangacat201author)

 

 

~+~*~+~

 

“Sam, come on, let’s go!”

“Dean… he’s coming.”

 

~+~*~+~

 

And the Lord said: ‘Let there be light.’ And there was light.

 

~+~*~+~

 

Light had always surrounded him. He was never without his constant companion – it was after all the sole core of his existence and his purpose. From the very point of his beginning, his light had touched the chaos of the cosmos and felt its way through heat and dust and rock and atmosphere. It had frozen, illuminated, warmed, heated, melted and burnt to crisp. He had felt everything grow and shrink and get together at the Will of creation.

 

Then the path of his destiny had changed and for a long time, he had known nothing else but the light and the only thing it had touched – the boundaries of his plane where he dwelt alone, floating, waiting.

 

He didn’t feel how much time had passed, but he felt change. He felt the wards thin at a tiny little place to allow a voice through that he’d known and cherished. He whispered back the answer to the plea through mortal lips. A short time later, he perceived a resounding crash shaking the foundations of his plane. And then another and another. As they grew in number, so thinned the veil at the one place that had piqued his interest first. He longed for his familiar and friend to come back and speak to him again, but even more so, he longed to finally set his sight on his Father’s favourite creation – mankind -, even though they would not be fit to bear his. Fleeting impressions were bestowed upon him through the thinning walls and his curiosity made the waiting unbearable for the first time in his endless existence, but he soaked up anything of the mortal world he could grasp, every little tidbit. He knew, however, that the time was finally nigh and he vowed to have patience.

 

He had distracted himself with illusions of men so thoroughly, that he almost didn’t notice the wall break. He felt however, the beam of instant darkness that fled through the light to his very essence, the first of its kind that he had perceived for many aeons, for with the shadow of the mortal plane came physical awareness, the awakening of sense, perceptions of space and time. He new that his mere presence would rip the fragile net that held this small world together so he took an offering of blood, a small exhale of breath and the strength of a powerful mind to hold together a physical form fit to pass through the door.

 

When he stepped through the crumbled wall, he was suddenly assaulted with the sensation of a physical body. The whisper of air against skin, hot gusts followed by sudden cold drafts, tousling hair, the pulsing of blood through his veins, the loud tumble of a heartbeat in his ears, an acrid smell flaring his nostrils, the muted quality of the light that shrouded everything in shadows and colour, the cold press of solid stone under the naked soles of his feet. Everything stormed at him at once, one sensation drowning out the other and retreating again before the next. He dropped down on this haunches, arms wrapped around his knees – skin against skin causing warmth and friction and more feeling – dropped his head on them and clenched his eyes shut until the overwhelming rush of awareness faded. When the dizzying height of human perception had been sorted in this mind to a manageable degree, he endeavoured to open his eyes again and peek over the ridge of his knees to take in his surroundings. Mostly it was stone and wood, a dwelling of some sort, but his interest was held by the two living and breathing beings right in front of him. Two of Adams descendents, he determined, but he could only make out their frames, his young eyes dazzled with the concept of contrast and colour. He saw them in light, one emanating a sharp icy glow fractured by splintered cracks of oozing darkness; a broken soul impressed with the sigil of angelic force. The other one brightened the room with an overbearing shine of warm flickering hues, more a familiar to his own, a kindred spirit, but somehow bound and moulded by an invisible power. He knew without a doubt that his was the power that broken through the veil.

 

He blinked once and his eyes adjusted to the terrible gloom of this world and now he saw clearly their outside physical appearance. Both where looming over him like trees, incredulous expressions adorning their faces as they looked down, until the taller one folded suddenly and crashed to his knees in front of him, tears streaming from his eyes. The other one turned away slightly, crunching up his eyes and bringing his fist up to his mouth.

He muttered: “All this crap and they send a fucking _toddler_ for heaven’s sake!”

The kneeling man however, locked eyes with him and implored:

“Who are you?”

He cogged his head sideways for a bit and tested his voice for the first time.

“I am Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Light-bearer. Did my Father send you? Is it time?”

These words caused the man in front of him to dissolve into tears once more, heavy sobs shaking his mighty shoulders and the sorry sight made him stretch out his hand in a gesture, what for though, he couldn’t fathom.

“This is the end then?”

The faint answer drifted through his musings and he frowned confused.

“The end of what? Where is my Father, why is he not here? He promised to be back. I stayed and waited and he told me he come and open the door, when it was time. You let me out, you must know his will.”

This time, instead of tears, he got a bout of choked laughter that puzzled him even more. Then the other man finally spoke up.

“Wait, wait, what? You went and got yourself locked up for aeons… at God’s _request_?”

“Of course, I do as he says. I don’t understand though…”

The kneeling man gazed at him with wide eyes and slowly extended hand towards him. He understood the intend and reached for his hand, his fingers half the size of the graceful long limbs.

“Sam, don’t!”

“Dean.” The man’s eyes never wavered from him, but the tone of his voice seemed to be enough, to hold the other one back. His hand engulfed his little palm fully and as their skin touched, a shiver ran through them both, but nothing else happened.

 

The tall man, Sam, held his hand a moment longer before letting go and sitting back on his haunches. Tension visibly drained from the other man, Dean’s, stance, though appeared still wired and posed to fight at a moments notice.

“You do as your Father says?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“Without question?”

“Of course, why would I do that?”

“And he ordered you to destroy the world?”

Now he found himself baffled, eyes widening.

“No, why would I do that? His Creation is his greatest joy and all of Heaven revels in it.”

He was taken aback when Dean snarked:

“Oh this is just great, the whole apocalypse is a sham and the powers of Heaven and Hell didn’t get the memo! Now the angels and demons put us up to this cosy little rende-vous all in vain. This is all such a huge fricking mess, it’s incredible. Well, news for you buddy, you’re supposed to annihilate the whole planet in a time when your precious father turned his back apparently on everyone, so be your evil little demon-self and _do_ something already.”

A moment later, Sam rounded on the other man.

“Dean, don’t you GET it? He’s been in there on orders, and he’s out here still waiting for orders. He’s not a Fallen…he’s…”

Dean gaped, but closed his mouth in seconds flat, and then he seemed to mull it over until his expression turned even more incredulous.

“Sonofa…”

 

Sam turned around to face the other man with a grave expression.

“Dean, we can’t just leave him here.”

He could see the other man grit his teeth and his eyes took on a hard glint.

“What, Sam, you want to go on a road trip with the fricking Antichrist? Are you insane? No way, just, no!”

Sam just looked at Dean for a moment. The other man held up his finger and closed his eyes.

“Just… if we do this, it’s going to get us killed. Again. And I get to say I told you so. And we’re not through with this, you hear me? We’re not... good, alright?”

Sam turned his head away and nodded sharply. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them and then Dean relaxed a fraction and nodded.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

 

He had tried to follow the two men in their conversation, but their words hadn’t made a lick of sense to him for quite some time. There was only one way to clear this up.

“I need to see my Father and seek revelation.”

“Damn straight, I second that, thank you very much. I’d have a few revelations for the guy myself.”

Sam nodded grimly.

“But first we have to get out of here. I’m surprised that we haven’t got the finest of Heaven and Hell raining down on our heads already.”

He found it prudent to supply the reason, as he surprisingly trusted these men to help him on his quest.

“I chose not to reveal my presence. No one will know me and my whereabouts, but for my own will.”

“Well, what a nifty little feature. Either way, they know the location so we better not be here once they come looking anyway. But first we gotta…”

Dean shed his jacket and draped it around his shoulders. The worn leather felt warm and supple on his skin and smelt curious. He grabbed the lapels and drew it nearer to his body, suddenly conscious and surprised at the warmth and comfort it provided. Sam reached out and hoisted him up in his arms before he stood. The men shared a wary glance that spoke loudly and said very little, then they made their exit.

 

When they stepped out of the building towards a sleek yellow car he felt Sam flinch and dug his hand into the tall man’s shirt, not really clear on what compelled him to do so. The reactions of a physical body were still new and foreign to him. Sam’s arms tightened a bit around his small frame and he carefully slipped into the passenger seat while Dean held the door open. Then he watched as the man walked around the hood to the other side and got in behind the wheel to fiddle with something under the dashboard until the motor roared to life. Dean shifted the gear and let loose to swerve down the empty road with screeching tires. There seemed to be no question as to where they were going. He noticed how the man kept his eyes firmly on the road and the little pinpricks of light that emanated from the headlights and Sam, who stared with unseeing eyes out of the side window where the world rushed by at a dizzying pace. He closed his eyes and soaked up the warmth that seeped through the coarse fabric of Sam’s shirt and felt the steady pulse of the heart beating where his hand was bunched in the cloth. When he laid his head against the solid chest, he could even hear the blood rushing under the skin, the never-ceasing thud of the heart and the slight hitch in Sam’s breath that smoothed out after a couple of seconds to a calm and deep rhythm. He suddenly felt a hand ruffling his hair and almost started at the unfamiliar and unanticipated touch, but it felt… good, so he let it slide. Instead, he burrowed deeper into the warm cocoon of soft leather and drifted off to sleep for the first time.

 

~*~

 

 


	2. Chapter one

He awoke with a dizzy rush of awareness and while he blinked the heavy sleep from his eyes, he took stock of his surroundings. Sam sighed deeply while Dean muttered under his breath and the car was still running fast, eating up the miles. But something had changed, something important that … right there was light. Light flooding in through the windows, beams and jets and rays of it, all tracing back to a big golden, red and amber ball rising over the ragged edges of the mountains, flooding the earth with brightness in every which way.

“Oh.”

Dean threw him a sideways glance and a slight smile tugged at his lips.

“You awake, sport?”

“This is the first time I have seen the sun rising since I made it.”

The stunned silence in the car grew to epic proportions until Dean sputtered:

“You _made_ the sun?”

“Well, you didn’t think our Father would do all by himself, now did you? The purpose of my creation is light. I caged the light and heat in the sun of this cosmos and bore it all the way down here to the virgin earth for the soil to flourish and the eternal darkness to fade. It was a long way from there and it took even longer to find that little spark of life that my Father had intended to grow and become what is his most prized creation. But I of all the heavenly creatures managed and therefore I was his favourite among them.”

He watched Sam and Dean exchange a glance at that, but he couldn’t fathom what it meant. They drew sharp breaths and then seemed to relax at the same time. Sam ruffled his hair again and presented him with a tight smile.

“Well, you can watch the sun all day, if you want to.”

“All the way until it sets?”

“Yes, all the way.”

He contemplated the prospect for a little bit in an attempt to reign in the feeling of utter delight that tingled at all his senses. When he thought he could speak without his voice cracking, he looked up to Sam.

“I think, I’d like that.”

Sam’s smile grew a bit wider and more earnest and somehow it made him happy that his joy could be the cause of a lightening mood for others. He knew great power and turmoil waged war in Sam’s core and felt the vestiges of it to the outer stretches of his mind. Something made him frown a little, there was a wrong note in the harmony here and looked over to Dean, his hands tense around the wheel and shoulders rigid against the driver’s seat, he felt that…

“…something is not quite right though.”

He tried to concentrate on what it was that struck a wrong chord in their tune and when heard the deep rumble of the engine he found it out of place all of the sudden, as if he heard it for the first time. He stretched his hand to the dashboard and from his touch change spread out in the blink of an eye.

 

Dean let out a shocked yelp and the sleek black car swerved dangerously on the empty road until he had his fingers wrapped securely around the wheel again and steadied their drive on the right lane. His eyes flitted frantic all over, then to the road and then back to him and for the first time, he locked his gaze directly onto his eyes.

“What the hell…”

“This is the right one, it is not? It sounds that way…”

“Holy shit, warn a dude next time before you re-atomize the wheels under his ass, would you?”

He shook his head softly in confusion before sliding down from Sam’s lap to sit in the free space between the two of them.

“You longed for it, did you not? Besides, this is much better.”

That seemed to shut Dean up and solicited a chuckle from Sam, who turned to him.

“However much I appreciate Dean getting his sweet ride, can we agree not to do things like that when other people are around?”

He pondered the question for a minute; then looked back up to Sam.

“Why?”

“Because things like that normally don’t happen in this world – at least out in the open – and it freaks people out. We would have a hord with torches and pitchforks on our ass as fast as you can snap your magic little fingers. No we want to stay as unknown and unremarkable as we possibly can, understood?”

“What Dean wants to say is, these kinds of powers are not known to mankind and they tend to react unfavourable to things they don’t understand. And to help you reach your goal, we have to be free to move however we will. The best way to do that is to stay out of their sight and out of their mind by being nothing special.”

He wanted to argue about being nothing special, but by mentioning his quest Sam made him realize that he might outclass them in rank and power alone, but that they had an advantage on him that would weigh heavy on his success – the knowledge of the mortal plane and the tidings of humanity. Therefore he conceded with a nod to signal them his trust in their abilities to guide him.

 

He contented himself watching the sun, his own creation, with rabid fascination as it slowly rose on its eternal trail up to the sky, leaving the mountain ridges behind to shine in all its divine glory upon the earth that warmed and bloomed and bustled with activity because of it. Soon however a loud gurgling sound ripped him out of his musings and when Sam and Dean chuckled he realized that he himself was the very cause of it.

“I completely agree with you, sport, I could use some breakfast too.”

Sam nodded and added: “And some clothes before we can go anywhere near a diner. There was a sign for a small town some three miles ahead where we should find these things easily enough.”

“But remember, no funny business when we’re with other people, alright?” Dean scolded.

He nodded solemnly. He didn’t want the other humans to be afraid or shun him when he was trying to discover the mystery behind what made them so favourable. Which brought him to a very important question.

“Why are you two not afraid of me?”

Dean looked at him then back at the road.

“Honestly? We thought you’d be bigger. But all in all, we really don’t think about it.” The unspoken consequence hung in the air like stifling fog.

“What about what I can do?”

Sam answered this time: “You know, we’ve seen so much more of the world than most people ever will in their entire lives and either you accept it and embrace it, or you go out sooner rather than later.”

He looked over at Dean at those words and saw the man tense and forcibly relax again, obviously set on not taking the bait. Before anyone could say any more, they passed through borders of the little town and Dean concentrated on finding a store where they could pick up some clothes.

 

The car stopped at the curb in front of a cheerfully laid out shop window that praised all sorts of high trends for kids. They got out of the car and Sam picked him up again easily while he looked around curiously at all the people that were milling about without paying any attention to them. When they entered the store, Dean rounded up a pretty and bouncy sales assistant whom he fed a story about how they had been swimming when something had run rampage in their camp and the backpack with all the little boy’s stuff had been dragged into the woods and…

“… so we are in dire need of your help to pick something out to last him over the next two or three days until we get home again.”

It was pretty much the most implausible thing one could come up with, but somehow the woman seemed more interested in Dean’s smile and his lazy drawl instead of paying attention to what he had to say. He was surprised when she scuttled off to collect some things for him to try on. He addressed Sam:

“She really bought that? That was the most ridiculous tale I’ve ever heard.”

Sam chuckled before setting him down on the ground and settling on one knee next to him, his hand firmly holding the lapels of the jacket closed that now fell down nearly to his ankles.

“Well, you know, Dean has a way with women that makes them forget what comes out of his mouth instantly. That’s just his charm.”

“Hmmm.”

The woman came back with a heap of clothes that made her arm vanish up to her shoulder. He was ushered into the changing room and had Sam help him put on the shirts and pants one after the other until they found some pieces that fit and didn’t make Dean’s eyes bulge from looking at the price tag. He was amazed at the feel of the cloth on this skin and couldn’t stop rubbing at everything, but finally he decided on an outfit he would wear for the day. It consisted of some dark jeans, a charcoal t-shirt and a red-and-green plaid shirt, completed with a set of new sneakers. When they went to pay all the stuff he was even allowed to sit on the counter to watch the woman scan the little pieces of paper on each item with rabid fascination. The shop assistant had gushed over his apparent cuteness and the perfect fit of the clothes all the time and even now she chattered away like a whole herd of geese, startling out of his reverie by addressing him.

“He’s such an adorable little thing, so sweet and patient, like he’s never been clothes shopping before. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Lucifer.”

Her eyes widened comically and she looked at Sam and Dean gaping, who matched her deer-in-the-headlights expression perfectly.

“Uhm…”

Dean recovered faster and threw her a blinding smile.

“Sorry, his name is Luke, really.”

She giggled and threw him a wink.

“Well, aren’t you a cheeky little devil?” She completely missed the two men cringe heavily. “How old are you?”

“Four billion five-hundred-sixty-seven million and three-hundred-twenty-nine-thousand years and half a day.”

Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Sam holding up four fingers and the woman laughed out loud.

“That’s a really big number for you, little guy.”

“He’s very good with numbers.”

Her eyes twinkled at him as she packed the last shirt into a bag.

“Sure he is. You’ve got such an adorable little family. I bet your daddies are really proud of you, right?”

He frowned a bit confused and looked over to Dean, who was scratching the back of his head, and Sam, who just shrugged with a little helpless ‘uhm’, before picking him up from the counter and settling him on his hip. When the shop girl beamed enthusiastically at them, they all smiled back obediently, thanked her for her help and after Dean had given her a little plastic card and scrawled something on a piece of paper, they left the shop a few bags heavier and settled back into the car. He turned the ignition and the deep rumble of the engine drawled from under the hood. While he reversed and watched out of the back for upcoming traffic, he remarked:

“I think you should stop introducing yourself like that. Your real name comes with a special brand of history, you know? Best we stay with Luke, it’s short and inconspicuous, alright?”

He didn’t really understand what Dean meant apart from the bit he had said earlier about how he was supposed to destroy the world and someone must have been seriously misinformed on that one. But he had seen the reaction of the woman in the shop and he supposed there might be merit in Dean’s thoughts.

“Also, that was not your real age, was it?”

“No,” Dean huffed out a slight laugh at that, “it was only from when we had the means to start counting.”

He watched Dean sputter and flail his hand around in obvious frustration. The sight made a bubbly feeling rise up in the pit of this stomach to pass through his throat and erupt as a fluttery little giggling sound out of his mouth. It felt very strange, but exhilarating and pleasant.

“Did you just giggle? Man, I swear that is the single most disturbing thing I have experienced in my life, ever.”

And that right there? Made him giggle some more.


	3. Chapter three

 

They stopped again in front of a restaurant with a big flashy neon sign above the door that said ‘Mo’s Diner’ and when Sam opened the door, he didn’t pick him up, but instead slid out of the car and held out his hand for him to take. He scrambled out of the car, took Sam’s hand and followed him to the door of the diner. He had to reach up high to grasp Sam’s hand when he was walking tall and he looked up all the way from their clasped fingers to Sam’s broad shoulders and knew if he waited, he would be as tall someday, even if Sam was stooping right now to accommodate him and the other people. Dean had secured a booth at the window for them, looking up at the toll of the bell. When they stood in front of the table, he looked hesitant for a second, but then patted the seat beside him. Sam grasped his other hand and swung him up so that he could settle beside Dean before the tall man folded himself into the opposite seat. He watched as Dean called out to a woman in a hideously lime green dress who in turn bustled over to give them laminated cards and set down shiny white cups in front of the two men. Then she asked what the little one would like to have and Dean ordered a hot chocolate. He felt a bit miffed to be overruled just like that especially since she came over a few moments later to fill the cups in front of Sam and Dean with a hot dark liquid that had an interesting smell, bitter and sharp.

 

Just when he was about to glare at Dean for denying him such a taste, the woman came over again and set down a cup in front of him. The smell that wafted out of this one made his nose twitch from the heady aroma of sugary sweetness and cocoa. He bent over the rim of the cup to catch more of the heavenly scent, when a hand lay down heavy on the back of his neck and dragged him up a few inches before his nose could touch the hot drink.

“Hey there, sport, be careful, or you’ll burn your nose. You’re supposed to stir it first, like that, and then drink it.”

Dean’s amused voice pulled him from his reverie and suddenly the hand was hot and heavy against his skin when they both realized that this was the first instant the other man had touched him. In a moment of silence nobody moved, but then after he blinked once, Dean let his hand slide a way in a gesture that was almost casual and made a move to sip from his own cup. He frowned a little, but soon he was drawn back to the delightful smell. He picked up the spoon and stirred the light brown liquid until a little swirl formed almost to the bottom of the cup before he sampled a bit on the spoon and let it drip back into the cup only to do it all over again. He felt them watching him and glanced around through lowered lashes, but neither of the man said anything, so he continued his play with the chocolate until he finally mustered up the courage to stick the spoon in his mouth and taste. It turned out to taste even better than it smelled and his eyes widened at the flavour that exploded in his mouth like a little firework. He could make out Sam and Dean sharing a look and a smirk out of the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t pay any attention to it, savouring the sweet aroma on his tongue.

“That good, eh?” He nodded mutely at Dean, who continued, “then what would you like to eat?”

He looked at the menu that Dean shoved over to him and the letters rearranged themselves in front of his eyes to words and short sentences, but he really had no clue what to make of them. After he had stared at the plastic covered paper for some time, trying to find something he would want for his first meal, he felt his cheeks grow hot like little flames where licking at his skin, when Dean spoke up again.

“Hey, I totally forgot, can you even read?”

He glared at the other man with the most ferocious expression his four-year-old face could muster and turned his nose up.

“I’m not even hungry anymore.”

He heard Sam stifle a snort and Dean gaped at him as if he had said something unbelievable. Considering that his traitorous stomach chose that very moment to growl loudly again that might very well have been the truth. The man shook his head and threw a little smile at Sam before turning back with a sombre expression.

“Well, then we’ll just stuff ourselves on our own, right, Sammy?” and he addressed the waitress he had winked over. “I don’t know what Sam’s having, but I would like some scrambled eggs, a side of bacon, hash browns and a very big slice of pie.”

“Sure thing, hun, will be ready right away,” She turned to take Sam’s order before looking at him expectantly, “And what will the little one here have?”

“He hasn’t decided yet,” Dean said.

She nodded and smiled at him, but he wasn’t in the mood to smile back this time. Instead, he opted for going back to discovering his hot chocolate and took a few tentative sips after he found out that the cup wasn’t as hot anymore. The food didn’t take long to arrive and soon delicious fumes trailed in the air all over their table and made his mouth water and his nose twitch. He watched as Sam and Dean tucked into their meals with gusto, while a lonesome plate with some fruity dough thingy stood next to Dean’s elbow seemingly unattended. Now that he saw them eating, the gnawing at his belly seemed to grow tenfold and he wished he had just picked something from somewhere on the card, consequences be damned. He watched Dean finish his plate faster than Sam and drag the second one to himself. He couldn’t help but track Dean’s every move from scooping up a hearty morsel on his fork to stuff it into his mouth and make obscene sounds alongside. On the second bite, Dean paused with his fork halfway up to the mouth and looked at him.

“You want some pie?”

He was half-tempted to refuse, but he was suddenly really, really hungry, so he shook his head yes and Dean offered him the fork. He looked at for half a second, but when the smell or sugar and sunshine hit his nose again, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He opened his mouth and when the bite-sized morsel was placed in his mouth, he closed his lips around it, but let the fork slide out silently.

 

If the hot chocolate had been good this was much, much better. The fruity juice spilled over his tongue and the dry dough crackled against his teeth. He chewed slowly and reverently longing to drag out the tasty experience, but he had to swallow after a few moments. He noticed Dean regarding him with avid eyes and a broad smirk on his face, but he couldn’t do anything but stare back in wonderment.

“I see you are partial to the very best thing humanity has to offer, right? Want some more?”

He nodded rapidly and Dean pushed the plate over the table top until it right before him. His eyes flickered between the plate and Dean’s face, half expecting the other man to snatch it back immediately. After all, he couldn’t want to let go of something that tasted so amazing, now could he? But Dean only waggled his eyebrows and indicated for him to start. Tentatively, he shoved the fork into the sugary mount and brought it back to his mouth and over and over again. Dean just smiled at him and reached out to ruffle his hair with a pat on the head. Then he didn’t notice much more since the pie demand all his immediate attention.

When he was finished, Dean paid again and they left the diner with the bell sounding on the door to tell them goodbye.

 

This time, however, Sam got behind the wheel of the car and Dean slid into the passenger seat beside him after he had settled in the middle. He watched them share a look and then Dean huddled down into his jacket, closed his eyes and leaned his head against the side window. He listened to his breath evening out while Sam stirred the car out on the main road and then out of town easily. He felt content watching the scenery fly by for a bit of time. He tried watching the sun again as well, but the longer he spent in Sam’s and Dean’s presence and in human form, the more he got attuned to their moods and feelings and the more it confused him. Silent contemplation seemed to be the only way to sort through it all, but as he tried to untangle the machination of either man and their bond, it got more and more complicated and he didn’t understand even a little bit more. The only thing he was able to determine was that whatever the world or fate or even they themselves threw at them, they would never let go of each other, body, mind and soul. He was thrown by such a bond that would persevere even if everything else lay in tatters since he had never encountered something like it before. He felt a deep longing for such a connection, but also to know how it came to pass. When he emerged out of his thoughts with a little sigh, he found Dean still fast asleep against the window and Sam holding the wheel steady, his eyes on the road.

“Can I ask you something?”

He felt Sam’s wary eyes on him for a moment before the man turned back to the road and nodded.

“How are you and Dean so close?”

He noticed how Sam choked a little and his hands gripped the wheel tighter.

“We are brothers. And there’s no one else left of our family now… but even before, we never had much to go on but each other, so I guess we are closer than normal siblings would be, not that it did any good either way.”

He took in the dejected expression on Sam’s face and the bitterness that seeped into his words and frowned in confusion. He had brothers and sisters, but none of them had ever shared a connection quite like this. He knew that Sam was hurting alongside Dean and tried to make things better, just as Dean was upset that he could live up to his own space in Sam’s life. What he couldn’t figure out though, was the reason and he felt terribly lost trying to muddle through it all. There was this gap, this black void that made Dean’s soul bleed and Sam’s strength falter. He tried to puzzle it together to a question, but what came out was only half of it and didn’t leave him satisfied. That however would be forgotten over Sam’s answer in a moment.

“Why? Why is Dean so broken?”

He was startled when Sam flinched as if he’d been hit by a low blow. The other man only whispered one word.

“Hell.”

The word echoed in his mind and rung through the black void like a bell, opening the floodgates to what was buried deep inside the blackness. His breath hitched as he looked upon the deepest, darkest corners of the pit. And felt it answer to the call. He recoiled in terror and blinked to lay his eyes on Sam again, felt his breath leave his lungs in quick sharp bursts and his fingers shake as he clawed at Sam’s elbow.

“What… what _is_ that?” his voice shook and he didn’t care that Sam looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“The opposite of Heaven, as they say; a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear.”

“The op… but… who would _do_ something like that?”

“Well, you apparently. That’s what we’re told at least.”

A deep welling ache settled low inside his belly and rose up to press against his lungs, constrict his breathing like an iron vice that lay around his torso.

“Me? But I… I didn’t…I…”

He met Sam’s eyes for a moment, when the other man cursed and pulled over to bring the car to an abrupt halt on the gravely shoulder of the road. He was dragged against a hard and strong chest with a hand rubbing his back soothingly, but it did nothing to slow down his whirling thoughts or his gasping breath.

“No, you didn’t, we know that now, ok? Just like nothing else quite turned out like it was claimed to be. But it’s not your fault, alright?”

The unspoken _‘I hope so’_ rang through and did nothing alleviate his anguish. He felt inexplicable wetness seep into the fabric beneath his face and the fast pace of his breath made him gasp for more air that wasn’t coming and the edges of his vision were greying. Suffocating panic coated his insides and the only thing that was steady in all the turmoil was Sam’s low voice rumbling at him. Slowly he got dragged with the calm rhythm of the tall man’s chest and his breath flowed more easily. Still, a terrible fatigue got a hold of him and he felt his limbs go heavy and still as his breathing evened out. The only thing he heard was Sam’s far away voice speaking ‘Dean, we need to talk… no more secrets…’ before he went under.  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter four

 

When he woke up again, it was from the soothing rumble ceasing and the car pulling to a stop in front of a ramshackle little building. The light was slowly fading as the sun sunk behind the horizon and Dean had slid out of the passenger’s seat before he was properly awake so there was only the bang of the door serving to make him jump. He looked over at Sam, who wore a contemplative expression, but a lot of lines had faded from his face with the tension less pronounced in his countenance. Sam threw a cursory glance at him and smiled slightly at seeing him awake, before he opened the driver’s door and got out of the car. He scrambled after the tall man and stretched his arms out to be picked up. Sam lifted an eyebrow, but complied and hefted him out on his hip, before fetching some duffle bags from the trunk. He bunched his hand into the material of Sam’s shirt and noticed Dean coming out of a door to the far right. He followed him with his eyes down the row of doors until the other man stopped in front of one and swiped in a key card to open it. He felt Sam jostle him slightly when he adjusted his grip around his body before they followed Dean into the room. When he looked around the room, there was nothing special about it, but it looked clean and if the colours were a bit muted from age and wear, at least there was nothing broken or awfully mismatched about the interior. Two beds and a couch as well as a rackety table and two chairs and another door on the far side. A slight thud startled him and he turned to find that Sam had let the bags slide to the floor, and both of the brothers were wearing slightly stunned and crinkled expressions as if they’d realized something. He turned back to the room and then back to the men again that uttered a faint ‘uhm’ when he finally realized that… two beds and three of them. His eyes widened, but Dean sprang into action before anyone could say something and walked over to the couch muttering under his breath. The man fumbled around a bit until a latch gave and the bottom sprang out of the couch, revealing a narrow mattress. He observed Dean scouring the room until he found some additional bedding in the closet beside the bathroom door.

“I think that’ll do for tonight, alright?”

Dean looked at him as if for permission when he really didn’t know what to say. He looked at Sam, who shrugged.

“Sorry, but we’re not exactly used to travelling posh. Hopefully we’ll be there by tomorrow evening.” Wherever there actually was.

He nodded and felt a big yawn worming its way up from his belly, despite having slept the whole afternoon, but his mind still shied away from the images that were etched into his mind too clearly.  

“I’ll get something to eat.”

With the words, Dean was out of the door.

“We should probably get you washed up and inside your pj’s so you can go to bed after dinner.”

He nodded again, but caught the last golden orange beams floating through the window over the couch and turned back to Sam.

“Can I watch the sun set first?”

The smile on the other man’s face turned soft and he answered:

“Of course you can.”

He clambered up on the couch immediately and peeked through the blinds with rapt attention while Sam busied himself around the room with whatever it was that he had to do. When the last rays of the day vanished a single tear trickled down his cheek unattended. He blinked rapidly when he felt a thumb brush over his skin and glanced up at Sam, who in turn looked out of the window into the falling night before he poured a line of fine white crystals all along the ledge of the window.

“Just a precaution, really… do you want to change now?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

By the time he’d scrubbed and brushed and changed into his night clothes – without Sam’s assistance this time – the door opened and admitted Dean, who was accompanied by the most delicious fumes. He got to munch on pizza and decided that it was almost as good as pie, but only almost. When he told the brothers about his conclusion, Dean laughed out loud and pointed a Sam with a telling wriggle of his eyebrows. After they had put the trash away, he sat down on the bedding in front of the couch and watched the two men going about their own routine for the night. He could see that their movements around each other were ingrained so deep that even the discordant tone between them wasn’t able to break up the familiar pattern. On the other hand, he felt as if the disharmony between them had considerably lessened. Something must have given way during the time he was out and the thought let calmness wash through him like a soothing balm. He knew that as long the two men stood together like they were supposed to, nothing would happen to him and with the certainty in his mind he snuggled down into the blankets and closed his eyes.

 

The light had been out for quite a while and the breathing of the other two inhabitants in the room had long since evened out to a slow and steady rhythm. Sleep however eluded him. Not because he wasn’t exhausted and his body yearned for more rest then a fit of panicked unconsciousness, but every time he closed his eyes the darkness clawed at him and images of unprecedented terror crept over his vision. He shied away from the pictures and tried to shut them out, but the consciousness of their origin made him feel all kinds of bodily reactions he hadn’t known up to this day and no matter how tightly he wrapped the cocoon of blanketing warmth around him, the cold and dread wouldn’t dissipate. Finally he gave into the yearning for contact and protection and untangled the sheets around his body. He peeked out from under the blanket to the slightly moving mounts on the two beds and debated for a moment until he slipped out and padded over to one of the beds. He wasn’t sure what to do now, so he just stood there and stared at Sam’s face that was slack with deep sleep. He observed the angular features, the slow dip of cheek bones, the tilted tip of the nose, and reached up to touch his own, feel the structure of his physical features like he hadn’t considered before. He wondered what it was that made him so different from all the others, when his outside appearance made him blend with the crowd fine enough, just like the man in the bed before him had _something_ that made him different. Just like the man in the other bed had _something_ that made him different, too.

 

He didn’t get the chance to muse any more about it since Sam’s forehead crinkled with a tiny frown, dragged from sleep slowly by the weight of his stare. He waited for the man to open his eyes, but when the lashes drew up slowly the sight made him step back with a gasp of apprehension. Sam blinked the sleep out of his eyes after a second and he instantly doubted his own perception since everything was perfectly normal. He completely missed the hand snaking out from beneath the covers and nearly jumped out of his skin when it poked him gently in the side.

“Hey there, can’t sleep?”

He nodded reluctantly, and the hand beckoned him by holding the covers open for him to slip in. He clambered up to the bed and lay down on Sam’s left arm, his head pressed against the flat planes of his chest that was only covered by a thin t-shirt, his hand fisted tightly in the dark material. With the reassuring throb of the steady beat that was one of the first things he’d ever heard with his own ears, he finally succumbed to sleep.

 

~*~

 

Waking up seemed to be one of the things he’d done most since his physical existence begun, but he found it a different experience every time. This time it was the absence of the heady sunrays that had caressed him in his sleep just moments before. He turned around in the heavy embrace of warm arms and blinked up at the source blocking his light and recoiled, rolling back against Sam’s broad chest with a bated breath. Dean loomed over him like one of the avengers, eyes dark and hard, but his face grave and blank, unreadable. The light that spilled around his form made the marks of angelic power visible, but did nothing to hide the inevitable darkness that was buried shallowly under the surface of the bindings of grace. It made the man a beautiful and terrifying sight to behold until he blinked and Dean was back to his ordinary outside appearance, his eyes showing a hint of concern and the strain around his mouth softened to a mere whisper of tension. He addressed him with a low whisper.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s ok, come on up, let’s get you started before Sammy wakes up and needs the bathroom all to himself.”

He noticed then, that very slight tremors where running through Sam’s frame – still invisible to the eye – and that his skin was feverishly hot and clammy. He crawled out from under his arms slowly and Sam turned and huffed out a breath, but didn’t wake up. He scrambled into Dean’s waiting arms and the man picked him up with a little more casual ease than his brother. Moments later, he found himself in the bathroom, his head pressed against Dean’s cheek, words mumbled sharply into his ear.

“Listen, I don’t know if you really are what you are… or something more… or something less. But whatever you end up doing; make sure that no harm ever comes to him, you hear me?” He nodded breathlessly, knowing exactly what Dean meant. “You have to promise, promise me, whatever happens, he’ll be save.”

“I swear.”

He looked Dean in the eye and tried put all honesty he could muster in his gaze, because whatever happened really, he would protect these men that had taken him in despite the tales ingrained in their minds and had shown him kindness and humanity. He would do whatever was in his power to keep them safe. The other man seemed satisfied with his response and nodded quietly, before setting him down to start their morning routine as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

Sam took the first turn at the wheel when they left even though he and Dean changed a look over it that could just as well have been a screaming match, but Dean conceded and rode shotgun in the morning telling him all about the landscapes and states and streets they passed on their way. They stopped early for lunch however and when they were ready to leave again, Sam slumped down into the passenger’s seat without a word. He noticed that the tall man was pale and a bead of sweat was trickling down his brow, his shoulders hunched as if he was waiting for a blow. He got distracted by Dean rambling on about cars and music and ‘things you need to know about taste, you know’, but after a few hours more he felt Dean’s anxiousness shine through when they couldn’t ignore the visible tremors, the blood drained features, the laboured breaths and the little distressed sounds of pain that Sam was desperately trying to keep under wraps. Sam appeared to be caught in a fitful slumber, and his brother’s more and more frequent glances did nothing to alleviate his worry.

“What’s the matter with Sam? Why is he hurting so much?”

Dean turned around with a pinched expression and he could hear the strain in his voice when he said: “Sammy’s just a little bit sick; it’s bound to happen, ok? He will be alright.”

Dean sounded like he wasn’t sure he could believe that himself. He looked at the older brother in anguish, since he didn’t know what was causing this ailment for Sam, but he resolved to find out on his own when Dean wasn’t about to share any details. He took the large hand between his small fingers and when he touched the sweat-slick skin the truth opened up in front of him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Everything finally clicked into place, well, at least most of them did. With a gasp he withdrew his hand and swivelled around to Dean.

“That’s… he’s all… he needs…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence due to the violent swerve Dean did to bring the car to a stop on the side of the road before rounding on him. He felt the uncomfortable sensation of the other man’s hands gripping his shoulders like a vice and shaking him so he could hardly understand Dean’s words.

“No, we are so NOT doing that you hear me? Never in a million years.”

He was completely stumped by Dean’s violent reaction since he only wanted to heal Sam and ease his pain.

“But he needs _help_.”

“I know, but not... not this. Don’t you understand this is how the whole mess started out and I won’t have it? I can’t do it, not again, ok?! We will find another way.”

He found anguish and concern and genuine hurt in Dean’s eyes and accepted that the man had his reasons, which was why he nodded even if his very instinct told him to act differently. He didn’t, however, want to forgo what little comfort he could give Sam, so he snuggled up to the man, keeping his big hand clasped in his small fingers and smashing his face against his biceps. He sniffled slightly, but no salty wetness left his eyes this time, when Sam’s other hand came up and patted his head awkwardly.

“It’s alright,… I’m going to be ok,… promise.”

He didn’t answer, but kept on breathing slow and steady as if he could make it easier for Sam like this. For the first time, he regretted the limits of this existence, but he would have to abide the rules just like everyone or everything was forfeit, that much he knew. He’d just have to come up with a way to get through to Dean and make him face the truth. He didn’t pay attention to anything else from then on, not the deep rumble of the sleek black car flying down the empty roads, not the piercing rays of sunlight, not Dean’s troubled presence, just his steady, calm breaths and the hope they would help Sam somehow. After some time he felt the coiled tension ease and the shivers cease a bit, and he let out a relieved sigh when the car rumbled to a halt and the engine died as Dean turned the key.

 


	5. Chapter five

 

He looked out and saw a lot of cars surrounding them in a state of perpetual disrepair with a dilapidated house nestled in between. Dean got out of the car and he let go of Sam’s hand so that the other man could open the door and get out as well. He watched Sam’s knuckles go white when he gripped the roof and the man swayed a little bit, but then drew a deep breath and stood tall and steady as if there was nothing wrong with him. He stayed close to Sam as they followed the older man up the porch and he stood slightly behind Dean on the last step when a hand landed heavy on his head. He looked up to Sam, who answered with a tight smile and moving his finger in a slight caress over his hair, before looking back up sharing an anxious look with Dean. The other man nodded and stepped up to knock loudly on the door before taking a step back. A few seconds ticked by and he could feel the tension rising in the brothers when a latch clicked from the inside and the door swung open slowly to reveal an older man with a grizzled beard, a cap and a shot-gun readily trained on them. Dean raised his hands palm up and said:

“It’s me Bobby, I swear, just me.”

The man looked them over suspiciously and muttered under his breath. When nothing happened for a second or two he nodded and lowered the gun.

“You know, boy, somehow I prefer getting knocked-out with a shot-gun to getting ditched in the blink of an eye. But I see that you found that idiot brother of yours,” he felt Sam cringe, “and who is that?”

He seized the opportunity to say something immediately and blurted out:

“I’m Luke.”

The man looked inquiringly at Dean.

“He… we had to take him in.”

He watched Bobby’s eyebrows rise all the way up his forehead until they all but vanished.

“I don’t believe you Winchesters, times like these and you take in strays. By the way, did you at least manage to prevent the… you know?”

He wondered why Dean scratched the back of his head embarrassedly.

“Uhm… er… kinda.”

“Kinda?!?”

“Uhm, yeah, let’s go in, have a drink and we’ll explain, ok?”

The old man thought for a moment, stared at him until he felt his cheeks grow hot, but nodded and backed away to permit them entrance. He looked curiously around the house while Sam shuffled him into the living room, where they plopped down on the couch. Dean leaned silently against the wall besides the door and they waited for Bobby to come back after rummaging around in the kitchen. He handed short glasses with a golden clear liquid to Sam and Dean and a slighter, higher glass with lemonade to him. He took a sip and liked the taste instantly, though it was nowhere near hot chocolate.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

The old man raised his eyebrows again and mumbled ‘you’re welcome’. He took a bigger gulp then and another one and before he could blink, the glass was empty and he held it out to Bobby. Meanwhile, Dean threw back the contents of his glass and he noticed that Sam looked at his own wearily for a moment before doing the same. He watched the tall man grip the edge of the couch and his nostrils flare as he swallowed with his eyes crunched tightly closed. Sam breathed heavily for a moment, but then he opened his eyes and relaxed slightly. Nobody said anything for a second, but he could feel the tension rising high until Bobby spoke up.

 

“So, what the heck happened out there?”

He swivelled back to Dean when the other man started recounting their tale.

“Well, turns out we were both wrong. The angels took me to keep me from Sam, so that he would go and kill Lilith, just like that bitch Ruby had planned.”

“So you stopped her? You stopped Lilith from breaking the last seal?”

“No…,” answered Sam with a gravely voice, “…and it is written, that the first demon shall be the last seal.”

He watched Bobby’s face turn ashen with terror, but before he could puzzle together what the three men were actually talking about, Dean went on.

“But then, the angels knew that already, more like, they were counting on it. You see, spring the trap, let him out and destroy the legions of Hell and you get paradise on earth…for whoever’s left to enjoy it. Cas got me out though and to Sam, but it was too late...”

“That means…”

“Yeah, by killing Lilith, I broke the last seal. I opened the door.”

“And Lucifer walks free.”

 

Bobby looked stricken and sunk down into a chair bonelessly. He gaped at the calm of the brothers and then yelled.

“But what happened, how did you survive? Where is he?”

He didn’t know if it was appropriate, but the thought it prudent to announce his presence when they planned on talking all about him.

“Uhm…”

The crack of Bobby’s neck when he whipped it around made him cringe in sympathy, but he didn’t expect the man to jump up so that the chair fell over, holding his chest.

“Sweet Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus, didn’t you think it would be good to tell me that I got the fricking Anti-Christ in my living room?”

“I’m _not_ the Anti-Christ… uhm. Er, what is a Christ?”

 Sam chuckled slightly and patted him on the head once more, which seemed to throw Bobby even more.

“Relax, Bobby,” Dean answered, “he’s not going to destroy the world. He’s an angel of the Lord after all, seeking revelation.”

“An ang… WHAT?!”

“That’s right. And I still wonder who spread that stupid crap about destroying the world, I’d like to meet them so that I can give them a good stern talking-to. Why would I put so much time and effort into Creation to blow it all up afterwards, huh?”

He watched as Bobby shook his head in disbelief and muttered:

“I… I need a minute.” Before he stormed out of the room.

 

He looked after the old man, then at Dean and Sam, who traded a look with each other.

“Now, that went well.”

Sam nodded: “Yep, I think so too. You think he’ll come around?”

“Probably. If he doesn’t burn the place down over our heads in the next five minutes.”

The taller man nodded and rubbed his hands along his thighs before getting up from the couch.

“Ok, that leaves one thing.”

He watched confused as Sam headed out of the room and scrambled down to follow him. The tall man walked down the corridor and opened a door that seemed to lead down to the basement. He felt Dean brush by with hasty steps as he bellowed: “Sam, no.”

Trepidation grew inside him as he observed Sam brushing off his brother and thumping down the stairs in a rapid pace. He followed them as fast as his short legs could carry him, but by the time he had made it down the stairs, the two men were grabbling with each other in front of a big metal door. Sam shoved Dean away with a ‘Let me go’ and step backwards into the room behind the door. He ran up to both of them and grabbed Dean’s pant-leg unsure of what was happening. Sam looked at him, then at Dean and commanded in a low voice:

“Close the door. Make it Angel-proof this time. And whatever happens… _don’t_ let me out.”

“Sam…”

“Do it.”

He gaped as Dean hung his head, but complied and swung the door closed with an eerie screech and bolted the latch. Then the man picked him up and turned around. He could see Sam’s face through the little barred hole in the door.

“Wait, you’re just leaving him here like that? You can’t do that, he needs…”

“I can and I will. He’ll make it now, he wants to.”

He looked at Dean and took in the pain that marred the other man’s features, but that did nothing to quell his own anguish. He balled his hands to fists and let them rain down on Dean, who took his helpless tantrum with stoic acceptance. When they emerged from the basement, they found Bobby standing in the door looking at them with weary eyes. He wriggled around for Dean to let him down until he had steady ground under his feet; he advanced on the older man with slow steps, blinking up. He looked up at Bobby held his gaze the whole time while the older man slowly sunk on one knee so they were more on eyelevel.

“You’re not going to let hail and fire rain upon the earth?”

“No.”

“You’re not going to open the gates of Hell?”

“No, never.”

“You’re not going to raise a sword against humanity in a call for flesh and bones and blood?”

He shivered, but made his voice come out steady. “No.”

“You going to keep those boys from doing something monumentally stupid?”

He tilted his head to the side and frowned a little.

“I’m afraid that’s not in my power.”

Suddenly Bobby grinned at him: “Yeah, I thought so… pity, that. Alright…,” a heavy hand land on his shoulder and he glanced at the strong fingers for a moment, before looking up again, “… alright.”

He closed his eyes and nodded. That was when the screams began.

 

It had been going on for hours and he could barely take it anymore. He’d alternated between curling up on the couch with his hands over his ears and standing in front of the metal door. Dean always seemed to be there when he got down, but he refused to let him look inside. His patience wore thin like a gossamer threat and only the fact that Sam himself had told him to stay away and let it happen kept him at bay. He crept down once more to find both Dean and Bobby in front of the door with the younger man pressing his forehead against the metal.

“Let me see him.”

He watched Dean shake his head once more and finally bellowed:

“Let me see, or I’ll tear the door down, you hear me? I will!”

Dean turned around, his features distorted with anger and pain, and picked him up to hold him in front of the bars, hissing in his ear.

“See, this is it. This your precious demons and angels and your father who never had a lick of mercy for us. This what they have reduced us to, this fight all because you pricks have huge blown-up _egos._ ”

He gasped when he saw Sam, curled up on a cot in the middle of the room writhing, hands clawing at his chest, head tossing, showing eyes rolled back into his head revealing white then bleeding to black and back again. He wanted to bury his head in Dean’s neck, but forced himself to stay focused on the heavy, fast pants coming from Sam.

“This can’t go on.”

“He’s going to get better.”

“He’s going to _die_.”

He slid out of Dean’s unresponsive arms and dropped to the ground.

“We have to help him!”

“There is no other way.”

“There i…”

“NO.”

And with that, his patience snapped finally and his temper flared, surging light under the thin layer of human skin. Dean involuntarily dropped to his knees in front of him and he laid his hands on the shivering man’s face.

“I didn’t want to do this, but you are not giving me any choice. I invoke your vow of servitude, you owe me obedience.”

Dean’s eyes widened with terrified disbelief.

“ _No._ ”

Slowly, his power seeped out, unlocking the sigil and fusing it anew slowly.

“You swore, to the Lord and his heavenly Host, and I am my father’s favourite, you owe me more than anyone else.”

Dean choked and struggled to break his grip, but it was futile.

“If you keep your vow, and don’t interfere, I swear I will never order you to do anything else, but you _will_ let me save him.”

He locked their eyes and saw his power shine back from under Dean’s skin and he waited with a bated breath until he felt Dean close his eyes and concede.

No sooner than he was sure, the latch to the door sprung open and he rushed into the room clambering up onto the cot. Sam jerked away violently, but he reached up to brush the sweat-soaked bangs out of his eyes with soothing murmurs. He looked up once more to see Dean standing in front of them, tears streaming down his cheeks. Before he could think of anything else, he nicked his finger on the metal edge of the cot and watched anxiously a drop of blood well up at the tip.

He hesitated one moment when he heard Dean fall to his knees and whisper under his breath:

“It’s ok, Sammy, everything’s going to be alright. I got you, God, I got you.”

He reached out and touched Sam’s bottom lip, spread the precious red liquid out over the chafed skin and watched his tongue slide over it to take it in immediately. Everything seemed to stop for a moment in time and then Sam’s eyes sprung open in their natural hazel colour until brightness swept out of them.

And then… everything was light.

 

 

 

_Epilogue:_

 

Bobby leaned in the doorjamb and watched Dean roll clothes up and throw them into one of the bags with single-minded determination. He marvelled at the way the little boy at his side worked in total sync with him, like they’d been packing their bags together all their lives. He heard steps come to halt next to him and looked up to Sam watching the two with a fond smile on his face. When the bag was ready, they all gathered in front of the living room door and the old hunter tried once more to quell his surprise at the picture they presented.

“You realize that all the goddamn angels on the planet will be after your asses after this.”

“Yep. You betcha,” drawled Dean.

“And when this gets out, and they know that no one’s pitching for their team, you’ll have all the goddamn demons on the planet out for your blood, too.”

“That’ll probably be the case, yeah.”

“So, with both the not-so-good good guys and the rather-bad bad guys in this cosmic fight ganging up on you, I ask, why bother? No side will take you as it stands.”

“Well, as we’re honour-bound or blood-bound, it all boils down to what this little guy wants,” Dean let his hand fall on the little boy’s head, “what side do you want to be on?”

The child who really didn’t look like one of the most powerful beings in existence blinked and looked up at Dean with obvious reverence, deep in thought for a moment.

“Yours. I want to be on your side. I want to save the world. And I get to drive the car once I’m all grown up.”

The brothers chuckled and Sam ruffled the boy’s hair before Dean gave him a slight knock over the head.

“Sounds like a plan, sport, though we’ll be talking about the thing with _my_ car.”

Sam nodded and muttered ‘yeah, don’t mess with the car’.

“Alright, let’s go then. We’ve got work to do.”

 

FIN

 

  
  



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